In my room, bashing the badger. Again

I don't remember a winter with so much sickness around. Everyone seems to have caught something nasty at some point or other. Naturally, my turn arrived at the weekend and only last night did I feel up to my first beer since returning from Brussels. So I went to the stash to look for something that wouldn't be too harsh on my recovering system. Blandford Fly is made with ginger. Hell, that's practically medicinal.

The ginger aromas make themselves felt as soon as the cap comes off, while the pour produces a limpid golden marmalade ale with little by way of head. The surface aroma is fresh and spicy, redolent of real ginger and just the way I like it. On tasting, yes, the superdry ginger goes right where it should: up to the roof of the mouth where it burns in a most pleasurable way. And at that point, the beer falls apart.

The prickly gassiness doesn't sit at all well with the already sharp foretaste -- it becomes a little uncomfortable to drink. Maybe it's the combination, but I'd swear that this is quite a bit gassier than your average English bottled ale. Then, as I've started to expect from Badger, comes the big cloying artificial fruit flavour -- candied oranges and fake apricots. Apparently they've added maple syrup to it for some reason. Maybe to balance the dry with some sweetness? It didn't work. It just ends up too thick, too sweet and hard work to drink. Still, that means it has to be good for me, right?

Involuntary detox over.